


Not Quite Midnight

by AteYellowPaint



Series: Holidaze [2]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: And More Fluff, Flashbacks, Fluff, M/M, New Year's Eve, Roger is smitten yall, and pining, they smoochin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:08:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28460664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AteYellowPaint/pseuds/AteYellowPaint
Summary: “What are you thinking about?” Roger asked, always the one to break the silence; not that he minded it.John shrugged. “Just about how I joined a uni rock band for a bit of fun and now I’m signed onto a label.”Roger smiled at the easy confession. It was something he quickly learned about John - he was a surprisingly open book; all you had to do was ask. Most people simply didn’t ask.-or-John contemplates his place in the band. Roger contemplates his place in John’s heart.
Relationships: John Deacon/Roger Taylor
Series: Holidaze [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2056992
Comments: 22
Kudos: 34





	Not Quite Midnight

**New Year’s Eve, 1972**

“There you are!”

John turned his head and smiled at Roger before moving his eyes back to the roofline of London, resting his chin on the tops of his knees.

“Do you know how many couples I accidentally walked in on trying to find where you were hiding out?” Roger continued as he climbed out of the stranger’s bedroom window and onto the roof to sit next to John.

He saw John’s private smile before he replied, “Didn’t know you’d be looking for me.”

Roger blushed. Of course he was looking for him. He hadn’t seen John since the Christmas party, and in those two weeks he might as well have drawn bloody love hearts all over a journal with the way he got butterflies every time he thought about that night. It sent a secret thrill through him that John had gotten him - Roger fucking Taylor, of all people - to feel giddy over a simple kiss.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked, changing the subject.

John shrugged noncommittally. “Came out for a smoke.”

“You don’t carry fags, though.”

“Can I bum one?” John asked, his eyes wide with false innocence.

Roger laughed and shook his head even as he reached in his jacket for his smokes. He slapped the pack against the heel of his hand before he took a cigarette for himself and lit it. He handed one to John and leaned in, wrapping his hand around John’s wrist and pressing the tip of his cigarette to John’s. Roger kept his eyes more on John’s lips than on the flimsy paper barriers that separated him from them.

At some point within the last two years, he noticed that John only ever bummed from him. He also noticed that John very happily ignored the fact that he could have used Roger’s lighter as well, welcoming Roger’s cigarette kisses every time. Roger shouldn’t have felt so happy to give his friend a nicotine addiction, but the coy look in John’s eye every time he took that first inhale always sent that stupid rational thought right back to the edge of his mind where it belonged.

***

_ “That’s the last of it,” Roger said, sliding his snare drum in next to the others. _

_ “Perfect.” John took a seat on the back bumper of the van, leaning against the open door. _

_ Roger made sure his drum kit was secure before he sat opposite John. He watched as John played with the silver ring around his finger and quietly observed the few people milling about the car park. He tried to do the same, but after one torturous minute, he had to break the silence. _

_ “Do you smoke?” Roger asked as he grabbed his cigarettes and lighter. _

_ John started slightly and looked at him with wide eyes.  _

_ “Oh.” John’s eyes followed the cigarette Roger put between his lips. He blinked a few times and broke his gaze back to Roger’s eyes. “Um. Sure.” _

_ The warm street lamp illuminated half of John’s face. The severe contrast between light and shadow: one eye dark and the other washed out, the line of his nose severe, the pout of his lips dramatic, and the frizz of his hair an amber halo around him made him look like the striking subject of a Caravaggio painting; which stood in almost comical opposition to the way John nervously flicked his eyes down and hesitated before accepting the cigarette Roger held out for him. _

_ Roger lit his own cigarette and put his lighter away before he moved in and beckoned John to come closer. John gave him a confused look but held the cigarette delicately between his thumb and pointer finger and closed his lips around the filter. Roger leaned in more and gently wrapped his hand around John’s wrist and pressed the burning end of his cigarette to John’s unlit one. _

_ He wouldn’t deny that he was flirting. He happily flirted with anyone who caught his eye; and once Freddie had taken John out of his frumpy clothes and put him into his satin stage-wear, John definitely caught his eye. It was harmless, Roger told himself, and fun to watch his shy bandmate blush up over what Roger thought were some of his tamer moves. It wasn’t like it would become anything more than a fun little game. _

_ Roger raked his eyes up John’s face to meet his gaze. He was pleasantly surprised when, although he looked a little caught out, John didn’t shy away. Instead, he kept his eyes on Roger’s as he took a deep breath in, the ends of their cigarettes glowing red between them. _

_ A pained expression passed over John’s face, but before Roger had a chance to wonder what was wrong, John reared his head back and let out a little cough, smoke puffing out between his lips. Then, he turned to face the car park and doubled over as he descended into a coughing fit. Roger let out a shocked laugh and clapped his hand against John’s back until he calmed down. _

_ “I thought you said you smoked!” _

_ John flipped his head back up, his hair falling back around his shoulders in an unfairly sexy fashion as he looked at Roger with a goofy, self-deprecating smile and shrugged. “Well, I do now.” _

***

The music, which was almost deafening in the common room, barely reached outside the first floor window. The frigid night air dampened everything into a haze and the fog of their warm breath mingled with the cigarette smoke in the stillness around them. Some houses still had their Christmas lights up, and from where they were, the lights looked more like fuzzy fireflies to Roger’s eyes.

John only had one knee drawn to his chest now, the other extended in front of him as he rolled his ankle back and forth in an unconscious rhythm. His hair splayed out over the collar of his coat; a crease in the waves formed at the nape of his neck when he tilted his head back to blow his smoke up into the air.

“What are you thinking about?” Roger asked, always the one to break the silence; not that he minded it.

John shrugged. “Just about how I joined a uni rock band for a bit of fun and now I’m signed onto a label.”

Roger smiled at the easy confession. It was something he quickly learned about John - he was a surprisingly open book, all you had to do was ask. Most people simply didn’t ask.

***

_ “John! It’s good to see you again,” Brian said as he waved in a mousy-looking boy. _

_ Roger had to bite back a scoff.  _ This _ was the “incredible” bassist that Brian wouldn’t shut up about? The kid (and he was definitely a kid) looked like he belonged in a library, not a rock band. _

_ He had on a green button down and jeans a tad too big for his lanky frame that dragged on the floor around his trainers. His long brown hair was caught under the strap of the guitar case slung over his back and the amp in his hand pulled on his arm. The two accessories swallowed him and weighed him down, making him look smaller than he probably was. _

_ “It’s good to see you too, Brian,” John said softly as he wove through the desks of the lecture room they had commandeered for the impromptu audition. _

_ “I don’t believe we’ve met,” he said to Freddie and Roger once he got to the front and set down his amp and guitar case. “I’m, well, I’m John.” _

_ “Roger.” He didn’t bother with more than a nod, which John smiled weakly at. _

_ “Freddie, darling. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Freddie said with much more grace and decorum than Roger believed was necessary. Freddie extended a hand which John gratefully took. “I can’t wait to see what those talented fingers have in store for us. Brian has not stopped talking about you.” _

_ “Fred,” Brian chastised, but Freddie only shot John a wink. _

_ “Oh.” John’s cheeks turned pink and he let out an unsure laugh. “Well, I’ll get to it, then. Is there a place I can plug this in?” _

_ “We already have an amp set up for you,” Roger said, nodding to their own amp that was clearly set up and ready. “Thought we wouldn’t be prepared?” _

_ “Oh, God, no!” John said, horrified. “Not at all, I’m sorry. I- I just-- You see, I made this amp special and I prefer--” _

_ “Wait, you made that?” Brian interrupted, clearly impressed. _

_ “Yeah, I… I like to go bin diving for spare parts and found a busted amp shell one day, and well…” John meekly gestured to his amp. _

_ “So you’re saying a dumpster amp is better than our equipment?” Roger said just to be an ass. _

_ “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying,” John said and Roger got his first glimpse at the fire hiding behind John’s shy demeanor. _

_ Roger raised an eyebrow, mildly impressed, and sat back in his seat holding John’s eye. It wasn’t until Freddie spoke up that they broke their standoff. _

_ “You can just plug it in over here, love.” _

***

“Hm, it’s all very serious, innit?” Roger teased.

John took another drag off of his cigarette before he flicked his thumb over the filter. Roger caught the way his eyebrows knit together for only a moment before his face relaxed again. 

“Yeah.”

“Why do you seem upset about it?” Roger asked.

John huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes. Whether it was because he thought Roger’s question was ridiculous or because he knew Roger had his tells memorized was anyone’s guess. Roger told himself it was the latter.

“Trust me, I’m not upset,” John said.

***

_ “Fucking shit.” _

_ Roger barked out a laugh at John’s elegant thoughts on the matter. “Fucking shit is right, mate.” _

_ “They’ll only let us use the studio at night, though,” Brian reminded them. _

_ “Oh, whatever!” Roger exclaimed. “We hardly get any sleep now as it is, we can manage it.” _

_ “Yeah, and if we get too strung out we can always just do a line of coke. Be true rock and rollers and all that,” John said in his dry wit before he broke out into a fit of giggles. “Christ, can you even imagine? My professors would die if I showed up for exams all--” _

_ That finally snapped Freddie out of his silent shock over the initial news and he interrupted John with a firm, “Absolutely not, Deaky.” _

_ “Oh, but I’ll only do a little bit, Freddie,” John said innocently, biting down on a smile when that got another laugh out of Roger. _

***

“Then what is it?” Roger asked.

“It’s just…” John sighed. “What if people hate us?”

“Then it means we’re doing something right,” Roger said as he nudged John’s arm.

John rolled his eyes again even as he smiled. He brought his other knee back to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs, his half-smoked cigarette held forgotten between his fingers. Roger knew he wasn’t going to finish it, so he snuffed the butt of his out and grabbed John’s.

John looked at him, his eyes showing all of the vulnerability he usually liked to hide.

“And what if no one cares?” John asked, his voice infinitesimally small.

***

_ “That was humiliating!” _

_ Roger barged inside his flat and threw his keys in the general direction of his credenza as soon as he got the door unlocked. He vaguely heard the door gently shut before John’s soft voice sounded behind him. _

_ “I’ll agree, it was pretty bad.” _

_ “‘Pretty bad’?” Roger scoffed. “‘Pretty bad’ is when someone heckles us, or- or throws their beer onstage, or Fred trips over a wire. Tonight was… That was bloody social suicide is what that was.” _

_ John silently moved to the kitchen and Roger followed. He paced back and forth from the window to the refrigerator and back. Everything was too hot and too suffocating and too loud and all he wanted to do was scream. Or kick in a cabinet. But he couldn’t afford to lose his security deposit, so continued to rant instead. _

_ “I told him,” Roger said, pointing his finger at John. “I fucking  _ told _ Brian not to book that venue. But did he listen to me? Of fucking course he didn’t fucking listen to me!” _

_ “I know,” John said as he poured both of them a drink from the high-proof vodka Roger typically saved for special occasions. He couldn’t say he didn’t need it right now. _

_ “Ten fucking people, John,” Roger said, walking to the counter and leaning up on it. “How are you not more upset? We pranced on that stage for an hour for ten fucking pensioners. I don’t even think half of them could bloody hear us! One lady even fell asleep--” _

_ “I’ll back you up next time,” John interrupted. _

_ Roger stopped short. “What?” _

_ “You’re right. It was a shit venue, it was a shit gig, and Brian should have listened to you when you warned him. So next time…” John shrugged. “I’ll back you up.” _

_ Roger didn’t know what to say. John’s words soothed a sore part of him that he usually kept well hidden even from himself. He couldn’t meet John’s eyes, worried he’d give away more than he already had. Instead, he focused on John’s hand as he accepted the generously poured drink. _

_ “Two is better than one, I suppose,” Roger said, unable (or perhaps unwilling) to express just how much John’s support meant to him. _

_ When Roger looked back up, John’s eyes were already on him. “I trust your ideas, Rog.” _

_ The sincerity in John’s voice made Roger’s cheeks turn pink. He could only nod before knocking back his entire glass. _

***

Roger should have seen that coming. It was the same fear they all secretly shared.

Roger told John the same thing he told himself. “We’ll make them care.”

“You sound very confident,” John teased.

Roger cocked his head to the side. His fingers itched to tuck John’s hair behind his ear so he could see his eyes better. “I am.”

John simply hummed. He unfolded himself and leaned back on his elbows, his head disappearing from Roger’s view.

“You’re not?” Roger asked, craning his neck to see John.

“It’s not that,” John said with a little shake of his head.

“Then what is it?” 

“It’s all just a bit surreal, yeah?” John said. “Like it shouldn’t be happening.”

“And why shouldn’t it?” Roger pressed.

John shrugged his shoulders and looked away. Roger didn’t resist reaching out this time. He snuffed out the rest of the second cigarette and turned on his side, propping himself up on his elbow. He touched John’s cold cheek, gently encouraging him to look at him again before brushing his hair out of his face.

“Why shouldn’t it?” Roger said again with more force behind his words. “We’ve worked hard for this, Deaks, all of us.”

John cast his eyes down. “I’m just along for the ride.”

***

_ Roger looked up from his drum kit just as John bustled in through the door juggling his guitar, amp, and a stack of papers. He looked like hell. His hair was wild and Roger caught a glimpse of the bags under his eyes as he got closer to the kit and set his things down. _

_ Roger assumed he was running in from an all-nighter until John slapped the papers down onto a music stand in front of Freddie. He realized it wasn’t revisions in his hand, but their contract from Trident. _

_ “We’re not signing this,” John stated. _

_ The three of them looked at John like he grew a second head. _

_ Finally, Freddie said what they were all thinking. “Like hell we’re not.” _

_ “Listen.” John ran his fingers through his hair, though it did nothing to tame it. If Roger wasn’t so confused by John’s erratic display, he would have spared a thought that he looked damn good with messy bedhead. “I read through it all last night. There’s some worrisome language in there. We need to hold off; see if we can get some of this changed.” _

_ “Deaky, I think we kind of have to take what they give us,” Roger tried to reason. _

_ “No, we don’t.” _

_ Brian scoffed. “No offense, mate, but I’m not too keen on throwing this opportunity away on your word alone.” _

_ “Fine, go ahead then, Bri,” John said, crossing his arms. “Just know if you sign that contract, you’re singing over the complete copyright to your music.” _

_ Brian’s face dropped. “Wait, what?” _

_ John hummed and casually flipped to the page in question like he didn’t just save their asses as the other three scrambled to huddle around the music stand. _

***

“Don’t you dare start with that, Deaky,” Roger said seriously, the palm of his hand still against John’s cheek as his fingers wrapped towards the back of his neck. Sometimes he wondered if John willfully ignored his own contributions to the band. “You put in just as much effort as the rest of us and don’t give me that look or I’ll push you right off this roof and knock some sense into you.”

John’s incredulous expression morphed into surprise before he finally broke into a grin and giggled.

“Go ahead,” he taunted. “I’d love to see you cycle through another seven bassists trying to find a replacement.”

Roger smiled and stroked his thumb over John’s cheekbone. “There you are.”

The warmth beneath Roger’s hand told him that the extra flush in John’s cheeks wasn’t from the cold. Roger thought he should probably move away, but he was frozen. Struck numb by anticipation that only seemed to grow, like a fire inching steadily on a fuse, getting closer and closer to the point of no return.

He could see the green of John’s eyes - just a small ring around his blown-out pupils - in the incomplete darkness. The sounds of the party below them dropped out and all he could hear were the soft breaths escaping through John’s nose. Roger could even feel John’s pulse speed up beneath his fingers.

Then, all at once, they were drawn to each other; that invisible force pulled them and they were left helpless to resist it. For once, Roger loomed over John and he used that to his full advantage. He angled John’s face up towards him. John’s breath caught in surprise and his eyes fluttered closed as Roger dared to get closer still.

As soon as their lips met, John wrapped his arms around Roger’s neck and laid back, pulling Roger down with him. Roger braced his arm next to John’s head and pressed himself as close as he could, though jumpers and jackets and coats separated them more than he wanted. He moved his hand down from John’s cheek and slipped it beneath the collar of his coat to his neck, just to feel the warmth of the skin there. John gasped and Roger took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside. He lightly ran his nails along the nape of John’s neck and just barely held back a groan when John whimpered into his mouth at the sensation.

It was different from the first time; there was no big spark or crackle. It was slow and deliberate; a burning heat condensed down into a hot core that swirled and pushed at its confines, communicating a need neither of them knew how to vocalize yet.

Finally, and with great effort, Roger pulled back, because even though he wanted nothing more than John’s lips on his, their bodies pressed close together, John deserved more than a freezing makeout session on a vague acquaintance’s roof.

When he opened his eyes, he was greeted with John beneath him - hair splayed out, cheeks rosy, and that goofy grin on his face - and in that moment he knew he was going to do everything in his power not to fuck this up; whatever “this” was.

“I think you were supposed to wait ‘till midnight to do that,” John said.

Roger laughed out loud at that, missing the way John’s eyes crinkled in delight. He sat back up and offered his hand for balance as John did the same.

“I’m impatient,” Roger said.

“That’s alright,” John said and - always full of surprises - moved in close to press a soft kiss to Roger’s lips. He pulled back just enough to murmur, “It just means you’ll have to do it again.”

“What a hardship.” Roger let John feel the words against his lips before he gave into temptation and leaned in once more.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hey y'all happy New Years!! I hope you liked this little one shot and part two of the Holidaze series!! Part three is gonna be Valentine's Day!
> 
> On a side note, I know it's been a shit year, but I have a really good feeling about 2021. I'm wishing you all midnight kisses (find someone who isn't as impatient at Roger lmao) and a wonderful new year!
> 
> Also, come hang out with me on Tumblr @psychicstrawberryworld its a mess and basically me screaming about how much I love Deaky but what can you do lmao


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